


Hair

by sketchnurse



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Dialogue-Only, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchnurse/pseuds/sketchnurse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River discuss an event upcoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

 

 

“Your hair’s getting a bit floppy, dear.”

 

“No it isn’t; same as it’s always been. Besides, what do you care? I don’t remember getting any complaints before. Quite the opposite, if memory serves.”

 

“Oh, shut it, you. You’re the husband of a very eminent archaeologist.”

 

“Yes, I am. Still getting used to being proud of that—ow!”

 

“Who got us tickets to this ball?”

 

“My eminent archaeologist wife.”

 

“And don’t you forget it. Sweetie, it’s not that I don’t like your hair, it’s just— well, it’s a little bit _unkempt_.”

 

“I’m an unkempt man. Not an unkept man, though, which I think should be the important bit.”

 

“There’s going to be press at this event.”

 

“Let them talk. Talking is good. Talking leads to all sorts of things; nothing better than free speech, if you—”

 

“And photographs. I do have a reputation to uphold.”

 

“Ah, yes, that’s why we make such traditional use of the desk in your lecture hall.”

 

“And this is the fifty-first century, where mid-day shags in lecture halls are mainstays and husbands with messy hair are very much frowned-upon.”

 

“What do you want to do, get me a haircut?”

 

“Ooh, I knew people callled you a genius for a reason. Or is it you who does that?”

 

“I _am_ a genius. I am—mmpphh!”

 

“Shhh. No explaining.”

 

"Your fingers taste like ginger. And Peru."

 

"Good, that's what the label on the lotion said."

 

"Really?"

 

"You're adorable."

 

“Hmm. Well. What's so wrong about explaining? Keeps the mind limber. And since we’ve seen today that other parts of me are already rather limber…”

 

“Oh, you’re naughty today, you are. Positively saucy.”

 

“An adequate amount of sauciness should exempt me from any haircuts, don’t you think?”

 

“Never.”

 

“And what about _your_ hair? I’m surprised more birds don’t mistake it for their nest.”

 

“I’ll have you know I’m taking appropriate measures to tame the nest, husband.”

 

“Oh? Please don’t say _you’re_ getting a haircut. Too much trouble, if you ask me. I don’t think I would like that. In fact, I would really, really hate it so please, don’t get a haircut. River Song, if you get a haircut I am leaving you alone for at least—how long does it take human hair to grow back—at _least_ a year.”

 

“You’re cute when you’re all worked up.”

 

“One day I am going to make a list of all the times I’m cute and if it turns out I’m cute at all times I am going to come after you for being redundant.”

 

“Well, sometimes you aren’t _cute_. Sometimes you’re—”

 

“A veritable feast of manly, manliness? Too sexy for my shirt?”

 

“Oh, definitely that last one.”

 

“If you’re so sure—”

 

“Sweetie, I need two hours to fix up my hair.”

 

“And I happen to have a time machine. Very convenient.”

 

“How many times have we thought, oh, let’s just have a short little shag and then completely lost track of time and forgotten what we were supposed to be doing in the first place?”

 

“Too many times to count, I expect. Well, River Song, I do suppose this is your loss.”

 

“Oh, I know it is. Still, a girl has to keep up appearances. And trust me, this is going to be worth it. Might even be worth getting a haircut for.”

 

“Where exactly is it? You never said?”

 

“Some new hotel they’re trying to promote, on Darillium.”

 

“…”

 

“Sweetie? Is there something wrong with Darillium? Don’t tell me you’ve been there before; I wanted to go somewhere new.”

 

“No. No, nothing wrong with Darillium, dear. Lovely place. I’ve heard wonderful, wonderful things. I’ll tell you what, River Song. I’ll be back in four hours a new man—not actually a new man, of course, unless something goes terribly wrong which could happen but it won’t because we, my wonderful wife, are going to Darillium! Yes, we are, and, I am going to take you to the SingingTowers afterward, and, we are going to have a night to remember.”

 

“Four hours? It’s really not going to take me that long to get ready. I was exaggerating about the hair.”

 

“Yes, but, River Song, it might just take _me_ that long. I’ve a haircut to get… and a new suit.”

 


End file.
